


his lips caress your skin; it's more than I can stand

by sparklespiff



Series: please believe me when I say I love you [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov - Freeform, Barebacking, Biting, Deepthroating, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Infidelity, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Revenge Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sort Of, background Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky, ish, kind of, more like complicated rivalry sex really, referenced metaphorical animal murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 15:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12560072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklespiff/pseuds/sparklespiff
Summary: There's a spark of interest in Yuuri's dark eyes. Yuri can see it. "What are you saying, Yurio?" Yuri can make Yuuri want him. He can make it so Yuuri will never be able to think of anything else.If Yuri can't have Yuuri Katsuki below him on the podium, he'll have Yuuri Katsuki on his knees.or:Victor's husband and Victor's boyfriend work things out.





	his lips caress your skin; it's more than I can stand

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stolen Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12099591) by [Ashii Black (ashiiblack)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack/pseuds/Ashii%20Black). 



> This is a sequel to [his hand upon your hand; his lips caress your skin (the moody Japanese man who is a closet pervert remix)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12161412) which is in turn a remix of [Stolen Moments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12099591) by [ashiiblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack). Reading order is [Stolen Moments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12099591), then [his hand upon your hand](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12161412), then this, though if you've already read [Stolen Moments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12099591) but have not yet read [his hand upon your hand](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12161412), it might be fun to read this first? Whatever you do, you should probably read [Stolen Moments](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12099591) first.
> 
> Thanks so, so much to [ashiiblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashiiblack) both for continuing to let me play with their fic and for betaing this. Title is from "El Tango De Roxanne." 
> 
> Here's the honeymoon, guys!
> 
>    
> About the infidelity tag: Given what happens in [his hand upon your hand](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12161412), feel free to come to your own conclusion / believe what makes you happiest regarding Victor's knowledge and consent to what Yuuri does here. As far as Yuri is concerned, he's definitely cheating on Victor (but since he's already the other man, does it reaaaaaally count?)

Yuri has been stuck in this resort hotel room for three days, and he hasn't seen Victor once. Every night, it's been a variation on the same text message: _sorry, couldn't get away, and I'm really tired now. tomorrow?_ Yuri hasn't had sex with him since before the stupid wedding, and it's getting to the point where he's considering doing something drastic, like showing up at whatever lame restaurant they're having a gross romantic dinner at and getting Victor to just do him in the bathroom.

He's jolted out of his desperate planning by someone knocking on his door.

"Finally," Yuri says, jumping up and yanking it open, only to find Yuuri fucking Katsuki-Nikiforov standing there.

"You were expecting me?" His eyes are wide and confused behind his dumb glasses, like some kind of stupid baby deer.

"I thought you were room service," Yuri lies quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Victor's still passed out," Yuuri says, pouting a little, "and I'm bored. I came to see if you wanted to hang out?"

Yuri would rather boil himself alive. "No thanks," he says, and starts to shut the door.

"Wait!" Yuuri puts his hand on the doorframe to block him. "There's a rink here, and I booked some private ice time. If you come with me, I'll teach you the quad flip."

Victor has refused to help him learn it, not that Yuri is going to admit that to the stupid pig. "I don't care about your dumb jump. If I wanted to learn it, I could just get Victor to teach me."

"No, you couldn't," Yuuri says, and for a second, Yuri seriously considers punching him in the face. "With his knees, he can't afford to be doing any unnecessary jumps."

Was that why? Victor said the jump was special, for him and his precious Yuuri, but maybe he just didn't want to look uncool and admit to having shitty knees in front of Yuri, who is young and in the best condition of his life. "Ugh, fine," Yuri says. He's picturing the look on Victor's face when Yuri surprises him with _his_ jump. He'll want Yuri so bad they might not even make it to the locker room. "Just let me get ready."

"Okay," Yuuri says, smiling, still with those wide deer eyes. Yuri feels like a truck. Like an eighteen-wheeler. "I'll meet you at the rink. Oh, but you ordered room service! I can wait with you while you eat?"

"I'll call and cancel," Yuri says. "Just go ahead of me."

Yuri gets dressed. He considers texting Victor, but maybe tiring Victor's stupid husband out with skating is actually his best option. He smirks and goes to find the rink.

He puts his skates on in the locker room, and when he walks out, Yuuri is already on the ice. As Yuri watches, he takes off from his left back outside edge, does four revolutions in the air, and lands clean on his right back outside edge— a perfect quad Lutz.

"What the _hell_ is that, Pig?"

Yuuri turns towards him and tilts his head. "You know, I preferred it when you called me Katsudon."

"Well, too fucking bad, _Pig!_ Answer the question! What the fuck was that?"

The pig fucking _smiles_ at him. Yuri remembers that smile from an elevator in Moscow. It looks pleasant, but there's challenge behind his teeth. "It was a quad Lutz, Yurio."

"Stop being a dumbass! I know what a quad Lutz looks like! What are you doing landing one?"

Yuuri shrugs. "For someone with a really clingy partner, I have a surprising amount of free time?"

Yuri feels his hands balling into fists. "Nobody _trains a quad Lutz_ in their free time!"

Yuuri Katsuki is a shitty skater. This is a fact of Yuri's life. Yuuri Katsuki ran off to pairs like a goddamn coward after one stupid Worlds gold because he knew there wasn't a chance in hell he could beat Yuri again—

"Well, that's clearly not true," Yuuri says, gesturing at himself.

"You can land a quad Lutz," Yuri says. Yuuri Katsuki is a dime-a-dozen skater. Yuri is worth literally twelve of him. Yuuri Katsuki can apparently land four quads to Yuri's three, two with higher base values. Yuuri Katsuki still has the most beautiful step sequences Yuri has ever seen. Yuuri Katsuki deserves to be kicked into the sun. "What the _fuck_ are you doing wasting your time in pairs?"

"Hey." Yuuri crosses his arms. "I'm not wasting my time. I'm an Olympic gold medalist."

Yuri scoffs. "So am I, and mine actually counts."

The thing is, that shouldn't be a hit. Yuuri is half of a history-making skating pair— they're record-setting; they've been called "revolutionary"; they flaunt their stupid love story all over the ice— and that shouldn't be a hit, but Yuri can see it land.

He sees it land, and he sees Yuuri lift his chin after, the way he used to get up after eating it trying to land the Salchow. "I made a compromise for Victor," he says. "You of all people should understand that."

Yuri's heart pounds. He feels too cold and too hot at the same time. He hears Victor's voice in his head: _Yuuri can't know, or this is over._

He swallows it all down and says, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I've never compromised on anything in my life."

"Yuri." Yuri's heart feels like it's going to rip itself out of his chest and the fucking anxiety-pig looks as calm as the ice he's standing on. "I know you've been sleeping with Victor."

It doesn't make any sense. "Victor said you couldn't know." His voice is shaking. "He said you wouldn't accept it."

Easy, like it's nothing, Yuuri says, "Sometimes Victor lies."

Victor lied.

"Don't be mad at him," Yuuri says. "I asked him to lie."

Victor lied.

Yuri is halfway between the ice and the exit. He could leave.

Victor lied to Yuri because Yuuri asked him to. Victor dragged Yuri on his stupid honeymoon and can't even make time for him. Victor gave Yuri a shitty secondhand silver ring.

Yuri could leave. He could get a plane ticket, and force Victor to pay for it later. He could leave.

Victor _stole Yuri's rival and locked him away in fucking pairs skating—_

No. Yuri isn't going to leave. Yuri wants to hurt him. Yuri wants to take something Victor loves.

Yuuri is standing there like a kitten left on the doorstep of someone in possession of a sack and rocks and access to a river. Yuri walks up to the edge of the rink. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you asking me why?"

Yuuri doesn't flinch. He doesn't stop looking at Yuri. "I know why," he says.

It's because Victor has needs and sweet Yuuri Katsuki can't meet them. It's because Yuri is younger and hotter and Victor can't resist. It's because the sex is so scorching Yuri's surprised they haven't actually set anything on fire. "Oh yeah? What's that?" Yuri wants to hear him say it. He hopes it hurts.

"Love," Yuuri says.

What the fuck. What the _fuck._ "Is that what Victor told you? That he's in love with me?" Of course Victor loves him, but that was _theirs._ Yuri's heart isn't for Yuuri to know.

"No," Yuuri says. It's just a story he's telling himself, then, like some idiot child believing in fairy tales.

Too bad for him. "It's the sex," Yuri says, smirking. "Sometimes we want each other so bad we don't even get our clothes off." Yuuri has probably never had sex like that. It's probably always at night, under the covers, and afterwards they hold each other and cry.

"Oh," Yuuri says.

Yuri steps onto the ice. He skates to Yuuri. He puts a hand on his chest. "Don't you want to see what it's like?"

Yuri does. Victor's sleeping with somebody else, after all. He doesn't want Yuri to, but where does he get off being a possessive dick when he's the one who went and got married? Yuri's been good. He's been faithful. Fuck that. And who better than Victor's perfect Yuuri? Yuri is going to ruin him.

There's a spark of interest in Yuuri's dark eyes. Yuri can see it. "What are you saying, Yurio?" Yuri can make Yuuri want him. He can make it so Yuuri will never be able to think of anything else.

If Yuri can't have Yuuri Katsuki below him on the podium, he'll have Yuuri Katsuki on his knees.

He moves closer, slides one of his legs between Yuuri's, and presses their bodies together. "I'm saying I'll let you suck my cock," he whispers, "and if you do a good enough job, I might let you fuck me after."

"I—" Yuuri stutters, stops, and licks his lips. He's hard. Yuri can feel it. Yuri is hard too, and he grinds against Yuuri's hip. "Is this really what you want?"

Nobody has ever touched him but Victor. He'd had plans at the wedding— Otabek or JJ or maybe even Chris— but then Victor danced with him once, with one hand clasped in Yuri's and one hand at the small of Yuri's back, and whirled him around the dance floor like they were the ones everyone was celebrating. Yuri couldn't do it after that. He just went back to his hotel room alone and fingered himself and pretended it was Victor and wished, pathetically, that Victor had wanted to say the vows and give the gold ring to Yuri instead.

But he hadn't, and here Yuri is, with Victor's darling husband.

"Yes," Yuri says. "I want this. You can feel it, can't you? Now shut up and blow me."

"Not on the ice," Yuuri says.

Yuri scoffs. "What, do we need to be in a bedroom? Need me to tell you you're pretty first?"

Yuuri's mouth twitches. "No," he says. "I just don't want you to fall down and hurt yourself."

"You think I can't keep my balance? Fuck you!"

"I don't think anybody could," Yuuri says innocently enough, before giving Yuri a look straight out of his Eros program.

Probably all of Victor's coddling gave him an inflated idea of his sexual prowess. "Whatever," Yuri says, and pulls Yuuri off of the ice with him. They put their skate guards on together, and then Yuri brings him to the locker room.

"Do you have lube?" Yuuri asks.

"No," Yuri says.

Yuuri raises his eyebrows. "You're having an affair with another skater and you don't keep lube in your skate bag?"

"Mila is a nosy hag." Yuri sits down and takes his skates off. Next to him, Yuuri does the same. "If she found lube, she'd get curious, and she wouldn't stop until she figured it out. She fawns all over you. She'd probably try to murder me."

"Mila loves you," Yuuri says quietly. "All we talk about is you. Do you remember what I said when I asked you to be in the wedding party? You might not— you snuck off to fuck my fiance in the bathroom right after— but I said I was glad we were friends. I meant it. I don't mean recently— I'm not an idiot— but that first year, it felt like we were friends. And then suddenly you hated me, and nothing I— anyway, I miss you, and I ask her about you. So no, I don't think she'd murder you if she knew. Really, if she murdered anyone, it would probably be Victor." Then he looks away, like he knows exactly how badly he just embarrassed himself, spilling his feelings all over the place like a loser.

"Is that why you're here? You miss me?"

Yuuri's eyes flick towards Yuri and then down. "Maybe."

"Well, I don't miss you," Yuri says. "And I'm not in here to talk about feelings. I'm here to have sex."

Yuri watches Yuuri press his lips together. "Okay. Just let me get—" Yuuri starts digging through his skate bag, and Yuri takes the opportunity to get naked and figure out how to best display himself. Yuuri makes a triumphant noise and holds a bottle of lube in the air.

"Why do _you_ have lube in your skate bag?"

"You can't believe you invented locker room se—"

A slow, warm trickle of satisfaction spreads through Yuri's body at the stunned look on Yuuri's face, at the blush that covers his cheeks, at the darkening of his eyes as they travel up Yuri's spread legs and pause at his cock, as they slowly continue up Yuri's abs, and then his nipples, and finally land on his face. Yuri bites his lip, and Yuuri actually shudders. It feels like winning.

"Oh, _Yuri,"_ Yuuri says, low and wanting, and he drops to his knees between Yuri's legs. He takes Yuri's dick in his mouth like he needs it there, and his hands slide up Yuri's thighs like he can't keep from touching him.

Yuuri's mouth is hot and wet. Every time he pulls back, he swirls his tongue around the head of Yuri's cock, and every time he slides back down, he moans like he can't get enough. He's probably ready to explode. Yuri takes pity and puts his foot between Yuri's legs and rubs the bulge there.

He expects more moaning, maybe Yuuri coming in his pants like the loser he is. He doesn't expect Yuuri to pull off and start laughing.

"Sorry," Yuuri says between giggles. "Sorry, it's just— your _foot—_ it's really obvious you've been fucking Victor."

Yuri doesn't know what the hell that's supposed to mean. "Shut up and get back to what you were doing," he says. "You haven't impressed me yet."

The look on Yuuri's face belongs at the Olympics. It's the look he should have given right before stepping onto the ice to skate his own free program. He nods once, and then takes Yuri all the way to the back of his throat and swallows around the head of his cock. It feels so good Yuri can't keep his eyes open. He has to tip his head back so Yuuri doesn't see.

Yuuri pulls off again. "Hey," he says. His voice is rough. Yuri did that to him. "Keep your eyes on me."

So being looked at is what does it for Yuuri Katsuki. Yuri watches his dick sliding between Yuuri's lips. He watches tears spring up in Yuuri's eyes as he chokes himself on Yuri's cock. He reaches out to touch them, the evidence of Victor's husband on his knees crying because of him, and Yuuri presses a lubed finger to Yuri's hole and Yuri is done. Yuuri slides his finger in while Yuri comes in pulse after pulse, and he presses against Yuri's prostate while Yuri rides through aftershocks that feel like they go on forever.

"Thank you," Yuuri says, when he finally lets Yuri's softening cock slide out of his mouth. "Victor doesn't let me do that to him. He doesn't like it when I cry."

His finger is still in Yuri's ass. He's let up on Yuri's prostate and is only thrusting gently in and out. It's still on the edge of too much, and Yuri has to fight to keep his hips still instead of lifting away. "Then I'll do it for him," Yuri says. "And I won't cry either."

"Sure," Yuuri says. Yuri barely feels the stretch as he adds another finger, caught instead at the border of overstimulation, his body confused between wanting to stop and wanting more. "It's not pretty at first, though. Who are you planning on practicing on? I learned at a frat house in Detroit, but that's obviously not an option for you."

"You what?" Yuuri brushes against his prostate again, and it feels like being shocked, the sharp sparks of pleasure sudden and overwhelming. Yuri struggles not to show it. "But I thought Victor was your—"

"Oh, Yurio." Yuuri looks disappointed in him. What the fuck? If anyone is a disappointment here, it's still Yuuri. "I trained near a university in America. Phichit got us invited to a lot of parties. You really thought I came out of _that_ a virgin?"

Yuri scowls instead of saying yes, and spreads his legs wider. He's hard again, and he shifts his hips to get Yuuri's fingers in deeper. He wants more. "You're going to be sticking your dick in me," he complains, "not a goddamn baseball bat."

Yuuri takes his fingers out, only to come back with more lube and a third finger. He thrusts in with the same gentle rhythm, the same soft brushes to Yuri's prostate that are going to make Yuri scream with frustration.

"This is really fucking unnecessary," Yuri says, grinding down on Yuuri's fingers, so good but not nearly enough. "Sometimes I take Victor without any prep at all."

Yuuri's silence is clearly judgmental. He fucks his fingers into Yuri even slower, like he wants to make up for what Victor didn’t bother to do. Yuri is going to murder him, right after he's done riding Yuuri's cock. Yuri can see it, hard and straining against the fabric of his pants, and he needs it inside him.

"Okay," Yuuri says, and he pulls his fingers out and strips off his clothes. "I think you're ready."

"I've been ready for a year," Yuri growls. He only doesn't kick Yuuri in the head because Yuuri can't fuck him if he's unconscious. He feels so empty. He starts to turn onto his hands and knees, but Yuuri guides him to lie on his back on the bench instead.

"Like this," Yuuri says. "I don't want you picturing anybody else while I fuck you." By anybody else, he clearly means Victor. Yuri doesn't tell him he already wasn't going to.

Yuuri pushes Yuri's knees to his chest. Yuri straightens his legs because he can, so that he's folded perfectly in half, and makes sure to point his toes.

He doesn't know what he was expecting. Envy, maybe. That shock of lust from before. Not Yuuri saying, "Beautiful," looking so sincere, sounding like he did that year at Worlds when he complimented Yuri on his combination spin and smiled and said, _You can try,_ when Yuri said he was going to kick his ass the next year.

Yuri wants to scratch at him and call him a liar. He wants to dig his nails in, deep, enough to scar forever. "I'm not Victor," he says instead. "You don't have to tell me pretty things. Just fuck me already."

"I'm not Victor either," Yuuri says, and presses the head of his cock to Yuri's entrance and holds himself there. It's hot, blunt pressure right where Yuri wants it, but he needs more. Yuri tries to force himself onto Yuuri's cock, but Yuuri is holding him down and he can't get any leverage. Yuri snarls at him, but Yuuri refuses to shove himself in. There's just steady pressure, gentle and unrelenting, until Yuri's body opens up and welcomes him in. It's easier than it's ever been. Even when he was loose and sloppy from the time before and Victor could just slide right in, Yuri was always a little bit sore.

This time, there isn't any pain. There's just the relief of being filled and a tightness starting up in his chest that Yuri doesn't know what to do with.

Then Yuuri starts to move. It's so smooth, and each thrust feels like it's lighting Yuri up inside. Yuuri's dark eyes are locked on his, and Yuri can't look away. He hears flesh hitting flesh, and the wet sound of the lube, and someone moaning.

"Wow," Yuuri says. "For someone who's been sneaking around, you're really bad at staying quiet."

"Fuck, ah, you," Yuri says, and bites his lip to keep from making any more noise.

"I didn't mean to make you stop," Yuuri says. "Let me hear you. I like the way you sound."

Yuri isn't going to give in, but then a particularly deep thrust punches a whine out of him, and there's no point in trying after that. It feels better when he lets himself moan, so Yuri gives himself up to it. He doesn't have to think. His body is moving on its own, rocking him onto Yuuri's cock without Yuri telling it to.

He feels present in his body in a way he never is except when he's skating— he feels perfect, like he was made for this. He hates that it's Yuuri making him feel this way. "How does it feel," he asks, trying to wound, "being inside the ass your husband can't stay away from?"

"You feel amazing," Yuuri says. Instead of hurt, his eyes are warm. His hair is hanging down messily around his face. His body is blocking the light, and it outlines him in gold. "And you're so gorgeous. The way you toss your head. The way your hips roll. This drop of sweat, right here—" Yuuri ducks his head to lick it, and Yuri writhes.

"You're exquisite," Yuuri says. He's hitting Yuri's prostate on every thrust now, and his abs are rubbing against Yuri's cock. "You're brave, and you're strong, and your skating is so enthralling I dream about it at night. You were kind when I needed you to be, and I hate, so much, that you stopped liking me."

Yuuri keeps fucking him, gentle and slow, and the tightness in Yuri's chest gets worse and worse until it breaks open, and Yuri's stupid mouth opens without his consent and says, "How could you leave? You got one stupid gold medal, and that's it, you were done? You didn't even give me a chance to beat you? I had plans!"

"You think I didn't?" Yuuri's voice sounds like it's breaking, but his thrusts stay steady and so do his eyes. "Oh, Yurio. It wasn't about you."

"Is that supposed to make it better?" Yuri digs his nails into Yuuri's back. He doesn't give a shit if Victor sees. "All you care about is Victor! He's the only one you ever wanted to skate against! Why is Victor Nikiforov the only one worthy? He switched to pairs, and that was it, you were done with the rest of us? There were other skaters! There was _me!"_

"It's not that." Yuuri drops his head against Yuri's shoulder, and when he speaks it's muffled against Yuri's skin so that he has to strain to hear. "It's that I'm stupid and possessive and I didn't want him skating with anybody else. And the only way to keep him from doing that was to stop skating against you. God, Yuri, you don't understand how badly I wanted to keep skating against you."

Yuuri lifts his head and holds his weight up on one arm so he has a hand free to brush the hair out of Yuri's face. He looks into Yuri's eyes, and there's deadly seriousness in Yuuri's face, something harsher and realer and better than the stupid soppy smile Yuuri gives to Victor. "I really wanted to keep skating against you."

It’s like Yuuri is penetrating into the core of who Yuri _is_ while he moves deep in Yuri’s body. Yuri can't take any more; he comes and bites Yuuri's hand to keep from screaming.

Yuuri hisses at the pain, but Yuri feels the pulse of his dick as he comes inside of Yuri. Yuri didn't think he'd like it, not the way he likes holding the evidence of Victor's pleasure inside him, but he feels proud of having made Yuuri come, satisfied with himself the way he is at the end of a program, knowing he's won a gold medal.

Yuri lets Yuuri's hand drop out of his mouth. He's left a bite mark, red and angry. "Pull out already," he says. "I need to shower."

Yuuri does, and Yuri stands up and walks to the showers, feeling Yuuri's come leaking out and knowing Yuuri can see it. He looks over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

Yuuri stares for a moment, and then shakes his head. "I don't think so. I really need to skate after that, you know?"

The thing is, Yuri does, but he needs to clean up, so he takes his shower. When he's done, Yuuri is on the ice.

Yuri watches him, and thinks about the way Yuuri says he gave up competing in Men's singles for Victor. Yuri thinks about the way Yuuri is still here, practicing his quad Lutz. Yuri thinks about what that means.

This is Yuri's to see. This part of Yuuri doesn't belong to Victor. "Hey," he calls. "Can you do the loop?"

Yuuri turns and smiles. "I was actually going to ask you to help me with it in exchange for the flip. I considered asking JJ, but I don't think I could put myself through tutoring JJ-style." His mouth twitches, the way it always does when he's being funny and a little bit mean. "Actually, can I show you something? You can call me an ambulance if it goes horribly wrong."

"Yeah, whatever," Yuri says, and Yuuri's smile widens into something brilliant, like the glint of skate blades in the middle of a perfect jump. It might be bigger than he smiled at his wedding.

Yuri watches as Yuuri takes off into an Axel, and then it happens, right in front of Yuri's eyes: one and a half, two and a half, three and a half, four and a half revolutions. It's a quad Axel. Yuuri doesn't land it, but he's laughing as he goes sliding across the ice. "How was that?"

"You got the rotations in," Yuri says, and then he goes out onto the ice to help Yuuri up.

"Don't tell Victor, okay?"

Yuri has Yuuri's hand in his, still, and his fingers brush the mark he left. "I won't," he says. This is his, nobody else's.

He lets go then, and they skate for a while, before Yuri thinks of something. "Hey, how did you learn the Lutz anyway?"

Yuuri laughs again. "I may have lightly emotionally blackmailed Christophe Giacometti?" Before Yuri can ask what the hell that means, he changes the subject. "It's getting kind of late. Should we go and wake Victor up together and see what he does? I think we have some talking we all need to do."

Yuri thinks of Victor, lying in bed, rumpled and warm. It's a tempting image. Yuri looks at the ice, and the marks their blades made together.

"Or," Yuri says, "we could stay and skate. _Katsudon."_

Yuuri smiles, and stays.

**Author's Note:**

> Is Yuuri Katsuki so competitive he'd steal his husband's secret boyfriend on their honeymoon? Discuss.


End file.
